


we’ll be just fine, you and i

by nightswatch



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Forehead Kisses, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 05:40:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9108979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightswatch/pseuds/nightswatch
Summary: Kissing your boyfriend's forehead is hard when he's so much taller than you.(Alternatively: "Forehead Kiss Woes" – A Novel by Eric R. Bittle)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I wrote 4000 words about forehead kisses, sue me.

“Hey, Bittle.”

Bitty smiles at the sound of Jack’s voice. He’s in the kitchen, cutting up apples for a pie, and he’s been waiting for Jack to come back, has been waiting for his key to turn in the lock, for his footsteps to come down the hallway.

He loves coming to Providence. He loves Jack’s apartment, loves the kitchen, and Bitty feels at home here, he does, his stuff is everywhere – his clothes in Jack’s closet, his pie dishes in the kitchen, his flashcards scattered all over Jack’s living room, his phone on the table, his shoes by the door, Señor Bunny perched on the nightstand for the weekend.

Sometimes he almost feels like it is his place, too. Sometimes it’s almost too easy to forget that it isn’t.

Arms snake around Bitty’s waist and something big and cold is pressed against his back a moment later. He yelps, squirming in Jack’s arms. “Jack Zimmermann, you big icicle, get off!”

Jack laughs and presses his ice-cold nose to the side of Bitty’s neck.

Bitty squawks. “ _Off_ , I said.”

“I got the eggs,” Jack says. He plants a kiss right on the tiny bruise that he left on Bitty’s skin last night and sets down an egg carton on the counter.

Bitty shivers and bats at Jack’s hands. “Thanks, honey, I appreciate it… Now move it.”

“Hmm,” Jack straightens up, but his arms stay firmly wrapped around Bitty. “You’re warm.”

“Not for much longer if you don’t _get off_ ,” Bitty says, but he’s laughing. He doesn’t really want Jack to get off, because he hasn’t seen Jack in over a week and he’s missed him and the fact that Jack has dragged the cold inside from his trip to the grocery store won’t keep Bitty from enjoying being close to him.

Jack nuzzles into Bitty’s hair, fingers toying with the hem of Bitty’s shirt, dipping under it, icy fingertips brushing over Bitty’s skin and Bitty can’t really decide if he wants to lean in or get away. In the end, he goes for some undecided wiggling. “I’ll get off in a second, I promise,” Jack mumbles.

Actually, he isn’t all that cold anymore, so Bitty says, “No, don’t.”

“Changed your mind?”

Bitty turns around, away from his apples, and looks up at Jack. He’s looking back down at Bitty, his smile gentle. “Thanks for getting the eggs, sweetheart.”

“Sure thing, Bits.” Jack kisses Bitty’s forehead. “I’ll leave you to it.”

“Not so fast, mister,” Bitty says and follows Jack out the kitchen. He catches him by the hem of his shirt. “I think I owe you a kiss. Get down here.”

Jack smirks, like he has absolutely no intention of _getting down here_. It’s an awful shame that Jack is so much taller than him. Even on his tiptoes, Bitty can only reach Jack’s jaw. And then there’s Jack, who is literally _always_ in a good position to kiss Bitty’s forehead. All he has to do is lean a little bit closer. Bitty needs, like, a flippin’ step stool. Or a ladder.

When Jack doesn’t make a move to cooperate, Bitty pounces on him and Jack catches him with a surprised huff. Arms and legs hooked around Jack, Bitty grins. “Good reflexes.”

Jack’s lips twitch. “So, about that kiss…”

“There you go.” Bitty plants a kiss on Jack’s forehead. “I gotta get back to that pie.” He unhooks his ankles, but Jack catches him by the thighs, not letting him get down just yet. “Um, honey?”

“What if I like you right here?” Jack asks. He almost stumbles over the words, his cheek flushed.

Bitty is so in love with him, it’s not even funny. “You can have me right back here after that pie is done,” Bitty says. “I promise.” He kisses Jack’s forehead one more time just because he easily can for once. “Take me to the kitchen?”

“Do you need help with anything?” Jack asks as he makes his way back to the kitchen with Bitty still clinging to him.

Bitty hums. He’ll find something for Jack to do; he loves having Jack in the kitchen with him. It really makes the apartment feel like it’s _theirs_.

*

Bitty sneaks up the stairs, wincing at every creak. He knows that Jack won’t even hear him tiptoeing up the stairs, but he still won’t risk waking him up. Jack curled up in Bitty’s bed for a nap only about fifteen minutes ago and Bitty wouldn’t even be coming up here if it wasn’t absolutely necessary.

Jack will only be here until tomorrow and Bitty wants to spend every possible second with him, but he also needs to hand in an assignment a couple of days from now and he needs to get some of it done while Jack is here. So he took his laptop down to the kitchen, fully intending to do at least half of that assignment while Jack was napping and then, after wasting the last ten minutes on Twitter, he realized that he forgot his textbook on his desk.

Part of him is a hundred percent willing to just _not_ do that assignment right now, but the other part knows that now is not a good time for procrastination.

Bitty opens the door to his room as quietly as he possibly can and slips inside. The curtains are drawn and the light is murky and grey. Jack is fast asleep, his mouth open a little, his chest rising and falling steadily. Señor Bunny is sitting on the pillow next to Jack’s head, watching Jack sleep. Bitty watches for a little while, too.

Sometimes Jack mumbles in his sleep, often enough in French. Garbled French. Not the kind of French Bitty understands. He’s pulled the sheets around himself like the blanket hog that he is, although, in Jack’s defense, he’s a pretty considerate blanket hog. Whenever he wakes up and notices that he’s pulled the sheets away from Bitty, he very generously gives them back.

Not that Bitty ever goes very long without bedsheets. He’ll take them back one way or another. Freezing to death in Jack’s apartment is not the way he’ll go.

It’s not that much of a problem when they’re sleeping in the same bed at Samwell. Bitty’s bed is way too small for one of them to pull the sheets away from the other. They spend all night tangled up in one another, so there’s no chance that Bitty will get cold.

Even though it’s a tight squeeze, Bitty loves having Jack here with him. Samwell has been feeling different without Jack and Shitty here.

Bitty grabs his textbook from his desk, his eyes still on Jack as he rolls onto his back with a quiet sniffle. The sheets slip downwards when Jack kicks his legs, his shirt is all rucked up, and of course Bitty trips over his chair on the way back to the door, because how could he not at the sight of _that_?

“Hm, Bits?” Jack mumbles.

“Sorry, honey, I’m sorry, go back to sleep,” Bitty says quickly.

Jack blinks at him, stretches, and his shirt rucks up even more. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just getting my textbook,” Bitty says, and decides to leave out the part where he got so distracted by Jack and how much he loves looking at him that he wasn’t watching where he was going anymore.

“Ah,” Jack says. He smiles, his face half hidden in Bitty’s pillow.

“I’ll be downstairs,” Bitty whispers and sidles over to his bed to drop a quick kiss on Jack’s forehead, because right now he doesn’t have to strain himself to even get there and he has to take advantage of that.

Jack, eyes already closed again, hums in acknowledgement, catches Bitty’s hand in his and kisses his knuckles before he lets him go.

Bitty sighs quietly as he leaves. _This boy._

*

“You’re aware that I’ll barely be here, right?” Jack says. “I have a roadie coming up and–”

“I don’t have to put these up, you know?” Bitty says. There’s a string of lights dangling off his arms and he’s standing on a chair and maybe Jack could have just said that _before_ Bitty started climbing on furniture.

He hops off the chair, but then Jack is suddenly in front of him, hands on Bitty’s upper arms. “No, that’s not– Bittle.”

“Jack.”

“That came out wrong,” Jack says. “What I meant is, you don’t have to go through the trouble of putting those up, because I won’t be around to enjoy them all that much. I do appreciate that you brought them.”

Honestly, Bitty brought those lights from Samwell on a whim, he didn’t even ask and maybe he’s getting to a point where he’s leaving too much of his stuff at Jack’s. “No, I should have asked, it’s _your_ apartment, I just–” He still occasionally forgets that he doesn’t actually live here.

“No, Bits.” Jack squeezes his arms. “I want it to be _ours_.”

The lights end up on the floor. “I–” Bitty swallows hard.

The holidays are approaching at light speed, and they’re not even spending them together, and even with the team knowing, being away from Jack hasn’t magically become the easiest thing in the world, and Jack wants this apartment to be _theirs_. It’s exactly the kind of thing Jack will just say. They talk about these things now. There’ve been days when they did nothing but talk and everything Bitty thought would be hard to say was just a little bit easier because it was Jack he was telling.

“I know we haven’t really talked about this yet and we don’t have to talk about it right now, because we both have a lot going on already, but I want you to know that I always want you here, okay?” Jack kisses the top of Bitty’s head. “Do you need help with those lights?”

Bitty is eternally grateful for the quick change of topic. He knows that they’ll talk about this at some point, but he’s glad that he doesn’t have to right now. “No, I’m good,” Bitty says. He hugs Jack tightly, then he picks up the lights that have somehow tangled itself into a huge knot in the minute they were lying on the floor. He already spent a good ten minutes untangling them after he pulled them out of his bag earlier. “These are worse than headphones.”

In the end, Bitty does manage to drape the lights over Jack’s bookshelves without them getting tangled again, which is quite possibly the proudest achievement of his life.

“Okay, honey, turn them on.”

Jack, who’s been watching him with a smile playing around his lips, flicks off the ceiling light and bends down to plug in the string of lights.

“You know, I guess you can leave them up all year ‘round,” Bitty says. “They look nice.”

“They do,” Jack says, but he’s looking at Bitty.

“Oh, shush…” Bitty waves Jack over. “Come here for a second?”

“Do you need help getting off that chair?” Jack asks, walking over to Bitty all innocent eyes and smiles.

“I can get off this chair just fine, mister,” Bitty says. He wraps his arms around Jack’s shoulders and pulls him closer.

“How’s the weather up there?”

Bitty laughs. Being taller than Jack is nice for a change. He doesn’t have Jack looking up at him like this every day. Bitty brushes Jack’s hair out of his forehead. “So…” Bitty says.

“So,” Jack echoes.

“What’s the plan for tonight?” Bitty asks. In all honesty, he wants nothing more than to snuggle up on the couch with Jack and stay there until they go to bed.

He’s exhausted and there’s a good chance that he’ll just fall asleep on Jack sometime during the next two hours. The thing is, Bitty has a class he can’t miss tomorrow at four and Jack has a game tomorrow evening, so they don’t have all that much time to spend together. Bitty is more than willing to try and stay up all night if that means that he can spend a little more time with Jack.

Bitty buries his face in Jack’s hair and sighs. This is the last time they’re able to see each other before Jack goes out of town for over a week. Bitty’s going back to Georgia for Christmas a little later than usual this year so he can see Jack for a couple of days before he goes to Montreal for the holidays, but it still feels like they have even less time to see each other than they did before.

“Well,” Jack says and Bitty pulls away so he can look at him. “I thought we could order food, watch a movie.” Jack reaches up, hand curling around the back of Bitty’s neck, and pulls him down for a kiss. “Do this.”

“Hmm, sounds good.”

Bitty kisses Jack’s forehead and for once he actually has to lean down a little.

*

“I could help you cut those,” Bitty says.

“I know,” Jack replies.

Bitty sticks out his bottom lip and watches as Jack cuts up another tomato. He taps his fingers on the counter, impatient. He needs something to do. He wasn’t made for being in a kitchen and doing _nothing_. 

“Bittle,” Jack says. He puts down the knife and smiles that sweet, sweet smile. “Remember when I said I’d make dinner for you tonight?”

“I do remember.”

“ _You_ helping would defeat the purpose of _me_ making dinner.” Jack gently nudges him a step to the right so he can get a bowl for the salad. “Why don’t you go pick a movie for later?”

“No, I’ll just…” Bitty waves at the stove, where the pasta is cooking. Jack is making chicken parmesan, because _of course_ he’s making chicken and he made Bitty promise that he wouldn’t touch anything before he allowed him to even step into the kitchen. “I’ll stand over here and silently support you.”

As much as Bitty’s fingers are itching to help, there’s something about watching Jack move about the kitchen that makes him feel strangely light. It’s like he’s allowed to catch a glimpse of their future together. A few years down the line this could still be them, except they’ll live together, and Jack will cook for him all the time and Bitty will cook for Jack all the time, and in between they’ll cook together.

Half a tomato goes skidding across the counter, yanking Bitty out of his reverie. Jack scrambles to catch it, but is way too late, so Bitty stops it just short of the sink.

“Good save, Bittle.”

“Thanks, Captain.”

“ _Alternate_ captain,” Jack says and turns back to his tomatoes.

Bitty takes the tomato half and carries it back over to Jack. “Yeah, have I told you lately…” He tugs at Jack’s sleeve to make him lean down and Jack goes willingly. Bitty can still only reach his cheek but it’s better than nothing. “I’m so proud of you.”

Jack smiles at him and kisses his forehead, which is just unfair because maybe Bitty wants to kiss Jack’s forehead, too, but does he get to? No. “Hey, Bits…” Jack says.

“Yeah?”

“Can you get me the lettuce?”

Bitty narrows his eyes at him. “I thought I wasn’t allowed to help?”

“Right, you’re not,” Jack says and picks Bitty up off the floor.

“ _Jack_ ,” Bitty yelps, “what are you doing?”

He should be used to this by now. This is a thing. Jack will just pick him up and carry him wherever he wants him. And Bitty isn’t complaining, really. He wasn’t sure how to deal with this in the beginning, how to be close to Jack without getting overwhelmed, but, as it turned out, it’s remarkably easy to be close to Jack.

Jack puts him down on the countertop. “I’m making sure I don’t get distracted and forget that you’re not allowed to help,” he says and gives Bitty a kiss before he gets the lettuce.

“Your pasta is about to boil over,” Bitty remarks and only barely keeps himself from getting off the counter to turn down the heat.

“I got it,” Jack says pointedly.

“I know you do, honey.”

After the pasta is taken care of, Jack glances into the oven to check on the chicken, then he comes over to Bitty. “I have two minutes.”

Bitty’s mind immediately goes over all the things he can do with Jack in the span of two minutes, then he says, “You have two minutes and half a salad.”

“I forgot about the salad,” Jack says, his eyes never leaving Bitty’s.

“You did.”

“How badly do we need that salad?”

Bitty pulls Jack closer by the ties of his apron and says, “I’ll kiss you for a minute and then I’ll help you finish that salad in the minute we have left. Deal?”

“Deal,” Jack says. His lips are on Bitty’s no more than a second later.

A minute, no matter if they’re waiting for their food to be done, or if they’ve just snuck away for a quiet little moment, is never enough. A minute is always over too fast.

So they don’t make the salad.

They pull apart when the oven timer goes off and even then Jack still has his hands on Bitty’s waist. “So much for the salad.”

Bitty laughs and kisses Jack’s forehead, because he wanted to before. It’s a good thing that Jack still makes it so easy for him sometimes.

*

It’s late when Jack gets to Samwell, but the Haus is still brimming with people. Bitty has been attached to his phone ever since he got back from his own game to see when Jack would be able to leave Providence after the Falconers’ game.

He sneaks away from Lardo and makes his way through the people still remaining at the Haus, checking on his teammates as he passes. Chowder, red-faced, his laughing about something Farmer is telling him; Dex, also red-faced, is sitting in the kitchen with Nursey slumped against his chest, fast asleep. Bitty catches Dex’s eyes as he passes and maybe he isn’t completely surprised when Dex looks more embarrassed than he looks angry about having Nursey plastered against him.

Bitty waits for Jack at the back door. Maybe he’s being a little selfish, but he doesn’t want anyone at the kegster to see that Jack is here. Because if anyone sees him, Bitty will have to share him for at least an hour.

He’ll share Jack tomorrow. Tonight he’s all Bitty’s.

Bitty pulls the door shut and severely regrets not putting on a jacket. He’s wearing one of the unbelievably cozy Falcs sweaters Jack got for him, but it’s freezing. Well, freezing by his standards. What little snow is left in the backyard is quickly melting away, soaking into the lawn. He’s heard several people says something along the lines of, “It’s getting warmer,” but Bitty would beg to differ.

Jack’s approach around the house is given away by loud, squelching footsteps. “Bittle,” he says when he spots Bitty on the porch. “What are you doing out here?”

“Waiting for you?”

“Aren’t you cold?” Jack asks, lips curling into a smile.

“It’s just been a minute.” Before Jack even has a chance to walk up the steps, Bitty throws his arms around him. “You won.”

“ _You_ won,” Jack says and lifts him off his feet. “Well done, Bits. Two assists, that’s great.”

“Well, Mr. Two-Goals-and-One-Assist, look who’s talking.”

Jack smiles sheepishly, looks around, and plants a kiss right on Bitty’s lips when he doesn’t see anyone in their general vicinity. “Hello.”

“Hi, sweetheart,” Bitty whispers. He’s pretty sure that no one can even hear them, the music’s way too loud, but while their friends know, the rest of the world has no idea, so maybe it’s not a bad idea for him to keep his voice down.

Still, if he didn’t know that Dex was _busy_ in the kitchen, Bitty would be expecting him to show up with the fine jar. That kid won’t rest until he has a new dryer. Bitty is sure that there’ll be enough money ending up in the fine jar tomorrow morning anyway, because neither he nor Jack is particularly invested in holding back, especially since the Haus has become one of the very few places where they don’t have to.

Bitty presses as close to Jack as he possibly can, burrowing into his warmth. Jack’s arms are wrapped tightly around him and pulling away long enough to drag Jack up the stairs and into his room doesn’t seem all that appealing to Bitty.

“Let’s get you inside, eh?” Jack says.

“I think I’m the one who should be getting you inside,” Bitty mutters and kisses Jack again. “And I _will_ be getting you inside. In a minute.”

Jack laughs and it’s not even cold enough for his breath to cloud in the air. “Okay,” he says. He’s still smiling when their lips meet.

Inside, Holster is whooping so loudly that it most definitely indicates a beer pong win. Now would be a good time to sneak Jack upstairs, because everyone will be distracted, but Bitty isn’t done kissing him yet. He’s never _really_ done kissing Jack.

Bitty breathes an, “I missed you,” into the space between their lips. He kisses the tip of Jack’s nose, his cheek, dips his head down to kiss the line of his jaw.

“Bits…” Jack says, his voice low and maybe just a tiny little bit breathless. His breath ghosts against Bitty’s cheek. And. Maybe they should go inside. Right now.

“Okay,” Bitty says. “We’re going inside.” Bitty looks Jack up and down. He’s changed out of his suit before he drove up to Samwell; now he’s wearing all black and a Falconers cap. “We’re gonna have to be real stealthy.” Bitty pulls the cap off Jack’s head and puts it on. “Try not to look like an NHL star.”

“I’ll do my best,” Jack says with a grin.

Bitty kisses his forehead because it’s just so easy for him right now, standing two steps above Jack and all. “I know, honey. You always do.”

*

“Are you sure you don’t want to make a fourth pie?” Jack asks, eyebrows raised at his kitchen counter.  

Okay, so maybe Bitty’s gone a bit overboard with the pies. “Hush…” Bitty says and hurls a dish towel at Jack. He’s standing in the doorway in a Falcs sweatshirt, his bag still slung over his shoulder.

Jack catches the dish towel with a smirk. “Bittle…”

“I _could_ make a fourth pie, you know?” Bitty says.

This morning, when Jack got up for his run, Bitty stayed curled up in bed on Jack’s side, like he always does when he’s staying overnight in Providence. Today he got up about five minutes after the door had fallen shut, a slow and quiet kind of anxiety spreading under his skin.

They’re invited for dinner at Marty’s tonight. It took them ages to set it up, because their schedules clashed in the worst possible way, which means that Bitty has had way too much time to turn himself into a tiny ball of anxiety.

It’s all good, though. Jack has talked to Marty about this, so there won’t be any big reveals, and there won’t be any bad surprises. It’s just dinner. With Jack’s teammate. And his wife. No big deal. And Marty has the cutest kid Bitty has ever seen in his entire life, so he’s sure that dinner will be great, but at the same time, Bitty is about as nervous as he was right before his first game with Samwell.

“Three pies are more than enough,” Jack says. He puts down his bag and inspects the pies on the counter. “Wow.”

“I figured I might as well…” Bitty shrugs. He went for fancy lattices to keep himself occupied while Jack was gone. “How was practice?”

“Good,” Jack says. “Marty is really excited about meeting you tonight. He made sure to mention it at least five times.”

Bitty laughs and he can hear that even his laugh is brimming with his nervousness, which means that Jack can hear it, too. Bitty knows that he has absolutely no reason to feel like this, but he also knows that tonight Jack is going to say something like, “This is my boyfriend, Eric,” to two people that Bitty has never met in his entire life and it’s new and exciting and terrifying for so many reasons. Okay, maybe Jack will introduce him as _Bittle_. And then Bitty will tell them to call him _Bitty_ because pretty much everyone does these days. And… and it’ll be fine. It’ll be perfectly fine.

“Bits?” Jack slowly trails his knuckles up and down Bitty’s arm. “What’s on your mind?”

Bitty chews on his bottom lip. “I’m nervous,” he says.

“Hey,” Jack says. “They’re going to love you. How could they not?”

“It’s just…” This isn’t the same thing as their friends at Samwell knowing about them. Bitty doesn’t know Marty and even though he absolutely trusts Jack’s judgement, there’s still a smidgen of worry left in him. There always is.

“I know. I’m nervous, too.” Jack kisses his temple. “It’ll be easier next time.”

“Next time?” Right. Because there’ll be a next time. There’ll be a lot of next times. Jack has about twenty more teammates, not that he’ll tell all of them right away, but– Yeah. There’ll be more dinners.

“When my parents are in town next month,” Jack says.

_Parents_. Bitty was so focused on the teammates that he completely forgot about Jack’s parents. He takes a deep breath.

“Bitty,” Jack says, his voice soft. “If it’s too much, we don’t have to–”

“No… That’s not it. But I still haven’t–” Bitty leans into Jack. He still hasn’t told his own parents. He’s still trying to figure out the right moment and he’s slowly but surely starting to realize that there’s no such thing as the right moment.

One day, he’ll just have to say it.

Jack is silent for a moment, waiting for Bitty to finish. When he doesn’t, Jack says, “If there’s anything I can do, anything at all…”

“Oh, honey, I know,” Bitty says. Jack would fly down to Georgia with him to hold his hand while he told his parents if Bitty asked him to. When Jack says anything, he really means anything. “I’ll figure it all out eventually.”

Jack hugs him against his side. “Love you, Bits.”

“I love you too, honey,” Bitty says and tugs at Jack’s shirt. “Get down here.”

Jack obliges and leans down so Bitty can kiss his forehead, a soft smile on his face. Whatever happens, tonight, or a month from now, or a year from now, they’ll be just fine.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are very much appreciated :)
> 
> I'm @zimmermaenner on tumblr if you wanna say hi!


End file.
